


Prompt

by agirlcalledbob



Series: Instant Destiny [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Graham Norton - Freeform, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Romance, TV star Stiles, Tv star Derek, chat show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22694908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlcalledbob/pseuds/agirlcalledbob
Summary: Derek's happy to be Stiles' friend. Mostly. He wants more, but he's never going to get it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Instant Destiny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634938
Comments: 4
Kudos: 189





	Prompt

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is not the Sterek fiction I totally planned on writing, but this is what happens when you waste (not really a waste) three hours watching Graham Norton Show clips on Facebook. And if you haven't done that, then have you ever really lived?
> 
> Graham often brings up fan fictions about his guests (I've seen AO3 on his computer screen more than once) and I just got the idea and had to write it because I thought it was cute.

“Why would I mind?” Stiles leans back on the uncomfortable-looking couch, though he somehow manages to still look utterly relaxed as the other guests whip their heads around to stare, intrigued. Even Graham is leaning forward, his usual insouciance vanishing as he scents a juicy bite.  
“It happens a lot, most people at least blush. I find it a good gauge for working out who’s comfortable in their sexuality.”  
“Well, I’m very comfortable in mine.” Graham raises an eyebrow and smirks, but Derek knows he won’t pressure Stiles to clarify what he means – the guy doesn’t work that way. Instead he spins around to the screen behind him.  
“This one’s particularly good.” He reads from the screen, his soothing Irish accent making the words sound even filthier than they already suggest. “’Mischief Stilinski is a hard working stableboy, and he’s secretly in love with his master’s son. When Derek Hale starts spending a lot more time in the stables, Mischief thinks he might just have a _new_ master.’” The audience bursts into laughter, as do the guests, and Stiles throws his head back, apparently greatly amused, accentuating his beautiful neck. Stiles might not be bothered, but Derek can feel his cheeks burning, despite the fact that there’s no one to see. 

Graham hasn’t finished, flicking to the next story summary with a wink.  
“Even better: ‘Derek Hale is obsessed with the scent of his new assistant. How long before Mischief stands up and tells movie star Derek to stop sniffing him because it’s weird?’” Stiles really likes that one, and has tears in his eyes from how hard he’s laughing. Derek smiles, and tells himself it’s because the summary was pretty funny, even while he knows it’s the sight of happy Stiles that’s having a far bigger effect.  
“Hey, why do I always get demoted?” Stiles manages to laugh out.

“Okay, I hear you, so last one: ‘Mischief Stilinski is a famous TV chef, and Derek Hale is a contestant on his show. Everyone thinks Mischief is dominant and in control, but it doesn’t take much for Derek to discover he’s as soft as a sponge cake inside.”  
“Luckily he already knows that. I’m definitely sponge cake for Derek.” Stiles looks right at the camera, just for a second, before moving his gaze to the pretty rising starlet next to him on the couch, acknowledging her amusement with that lopsided smirk of his. The audience is even more amused; they’re lapping up Stiles, as everyone does. Derek sputters his water, thankful that the clear droplets disappear into the clean white bedsheets – relieved he finished his coffee already.

“Your relationship, or at least the relationship between your two characters on the show, has long been a subject for fans to go crazy about hasn’t it?” Graham prompts and Stiles catches the bait, as Derek knows would have been previously agreed to, in the greenroom by the show’s researchers.  
“They love it. Our fans can be pretty intense, but they’re mainly good-hearted: just a low level lunacy.” The star of a new Disney action movie at the end of the couch chuckles, nodding in agreement. “I think it’s usual for fans to really get involved with the characters they like, and Roman and Tyler have the kind of friendship that people really aspire to. They play off each other with the quips and one-liners, but they’re really solid too and always have each other’s backs. They’ve been created to be the backbone of the show, and to support the other characters, particularly Scott’s.”  
“Well, it isn’t called ‘Scotts Landing’ for nothing.”  
“No, and I tell Scott all the time that he only got the job because they thought it would be easier with him having the same name as his character.”  
“But you and Derek are good friends in real life too, and that fuels the fans?”  
“Definitely. I don’t Google my name anymore.” Stiles finally blushes, and Derek feels the warmth in his chest.

Derek’s watching – it isn’t as though he couldn’t watch Stiles on a loop or anything – but he isn’t really paying attention, focusing instead on Stiles’ movements; the way his huge amber eyes glow, the way he always moves his head, revealing his smooth, pale neck, that adorable nose just made for booping (and Derek will straight up murder anyone who works out that’s the way he feels about it), the clear, pale skin that shows off his cute moles (though Derek is equally enamoured of the tan Stiles gets when it’s off season so he doesn’t have to maintain the look for the show, especially that line around his hips where you can sometimes see the white bits left behind). That’s before he’s even considered his body: deceptively broad shoulders with narrow hips perfect for grabbing, the cutest ass, long, elegant fingers… Derek’s almost tempted to slap himself – for his guilty objectification if nothing else. Almost like he has to break down Stiles into the components of his physical perfection because at least that way it’s all about his cock (and what it wants to do with Stiles), and not about his heart, which is what will get involved if he starts to think about how smart Stiles is, how eager to be a good person, how his face lights up when he learns something new, or is happy, or proud of his friends. Fuck, and there he goes. Thinking about that stuff. And suddenly he’s feeling less warm, and more frustration, at himself, at this stupid crush he’s got on the guy who is probably his best friend. No, is _definitely_ his best friend, though he’s aware he probably isn’t Stiles’ – too many people love him for that. 

“Derek is my best friend,” TV Stiles is announcing, and Derek is brought back to the screen with a jolt. “He’s there for me in a way no one else ever has been – and I’m lucky that I have a lot of people in my corner – there’s something really special about him, and I know I could tell him anything.” There it is again, that brief direct contact through the camera, that wide mouth in a semi-smile, that feels like it’s just for Derek; though of course there’s probably countless screaming fan girls and boys who feel the same way. 

Graham links to some question about the movie part Stiles has just landed, but Derek’s still thinking about what he just said. Stiles was right. He can tell Derek anything. He’d never judge (of course there was a time their relationship was far from smooth, but not anymore), and Derek feels the same way about Stiles. Well, mainly. Of course there’s the fact that Derek’s heart beats only for the boy. He isn’t planning on mentioning that. 

The sound of the keycard wakes him from his reverie, and he sits up a little more in the bed, straightening the sheets.  
“Hi honey, I’m home!” Stiles bursts through the door, a demonic whirlwind, as usual. “How was the show?” Stiles glances at the screen, where the credits are playing. It had filmed the night before, for today’s airing, but Stiles never watches himself on TV, and had gone out for dinner with Lydia, his assistant. He flops onto the bed, wrapping a long arm over Derek’s middle.  
“How was dinner?”  
“Oof, exquisite, as usual. I don’t know how Lyd does it. I brought you cheesecake.” He flails an arm toward the bag of take out he’s abandoned on the nightstand, and buries his face into Derek’s side.  
“Sleepy?”  
“Always. Still not over this time difference.” He sits up. “The show though. I wasn’t sure how they’d edit it.”  
“They’re always fair on that one. You came across well, as ever. The audience loved you. And that Melissa chick was shooting you ‘fuck me’ eyes the whole time.”  
“She did ask for my number. I didn’t take it though.”  
“She seemed nice?”  
“Not my type.” Derek was a little surprised. Stiles had always gone for empowered beauties who left him tongue-tied – it was his thing – and the starlet had been a prime example.  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah. Took a bit of realising, but, yeah…not my type.”

Derek’s heart falls into his stomach. Stiles is going to tell him now, what he was maybe hinting at on the chat show, about Derek being his go-to sounding board. It’s going to be someone they know, which will make it a hundred times harder, because if it had just been a passing flirtation Stiles would have told him straight away. Which means maybe Stiles is already in _love_ , and the thought makes the blood leave Derek’s face. It won’t be Lyd – they’re definitely just friends even if Stiles used to have a major crush (that empowered thing again). Erica? But they’re really good friends too and Stiles has never changed how he is around her. Besides, her fiancé Boyd would string him up, no matter how stoic the man is. And his Stiles is no homewrecker, anyway. Shit, it’d better not be Cora, or Derek might just string himself up instead.

“Der? Come back to me, babe.” Stiles has sat up properly and is watching Derek with worry in his eyes.  
“Huh?”  
“You were miles away. You just wanna go to sleep?” Fuck, yes. If it would mean avoiding having his heart broken for one more night. But that isn’t what a best friend does.  
“We can talk if you want.”  
“I should have watched the show.”  
“Why?”  
“See what they kept in.”  
Derek shrugs. “I think we can get it on that online playback app.” But Stiles doesn’t seem to hear.  
“I only decided in the green room, when the researcher was asking about those fan fictions about us. I knew already, obviously, but that’s when I decided I had to do it.”  
“Do what?”  
Stiles doesn’t answer, but the look he gives Derek seems almost disappointed. “I couldn’t just do it there though, on camera, not without talking about it. But I thought I could hint enough for you to get it.”

Derek’s ashamed. He’s meant to be Stiles’ best friend, and clearly should have understood something through what Stiles said. He had thought it was the love thing, but why won’t Stiles just tell him? He must know Derek won’t judge (even if he really wants to).  
“You like someone?” he ventures.  
“Duh.”  
“You know I’m here for you.”  
“Maybe not. When you hear.”  
“Try me.”

Stiles looks at him, maybe for a minute, maybe for ten. Derek has no idea, although he could quite happily gaze into those eyes for a year at a time.  
“Okay. Just…I haven’t told anyone else yet, and I think I want to keep it on the downlow for a while.” Derek nods, understanding, except not at all. But if Stiles wants a secret, Stiles gets a secret. “Der… I’m bi.”  
“Bi?” Derek doesn’t get it- oh! His brain finally catches up. Shit. That opens up the people Stiles might be in love with. Isaac, although Stiles wouldn’t need to hide that, as Derek’s pretty sure Isaac’s more than half in love with Stiles, and has never bothered hiding it – it’s not his way. Or maybe Liam. He’s only just turned eighteen, so maybe Stiles feels a bit weird about the age gap, even if he’s only just twenty-two himself.  
“Der?” Stiles interrupts his stupid mind, again. He looks concerned and Derek hates himself a little bit more. “Tell me what you think.”  
“I’m glad you could tell me. You know I’ll always be here for you.” Finally something that Derek doesn’t have to overthink. Stiles smiles properly, at last. 

The smile fades, though.  
“There’s something else. I like- there’s someone I like.” That feeling of sinking is back.  
“Okay. Do you want to tell me?” Though he’s wishing Stiles would keep this one to himself. Forever.  
“Uh, yeah I do. Though I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t have to.” Derek doesn’t know what he means. Maybe it was meant to be obvious from the show, though he had zoned out a lot with his own inappropriate thoughts. Had he talked about any of his other co-stars a lot? Derek couldn’t remember him mentioning anyone but him. And Scott for just a minute, but that was one potential love interest he didn’t fear. That was a ‘no way’.  
“You’ll have to help me out. But I promise I’m here for you, no matter what.”  
“That’s what I’m hoping.” Stiles is nibbling his lip, and it’s distracting all over again. Derek’s in danger of missing this too, and Stiles is right in the room with him. He gives himself a mental slap.  
“Just burst it out. You’ll feel better.”  
“Fuck…it’s you, Der.” Stiles immediately hangs his head, so Derek can’t see his expression, though he can see the pink blush spreading over his cheekbones.  
“Me?”  
“I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything-,” No, no, no. Derek won’t have that. Not now three words from Stiles have made him impossibly happy. He pulls Stiles to him, hugging him the way he has so, so many times before, except, this time, he doesn’t have to hide the fact he drowns in the warm smell of home that emanates from his skin, as he runs his closed lips up Stiles’ neck, eliciting a whimper that makes Derek want to fucking _giggle_.  
“Mine,” is all he says though, as he moves his head, to kiss that motor-mouth, to own that face that makes him ecstatic every time he sees it, even if he used to have to hide that, a little. He won’t anymore. Stiles is his. And he’s Stiles’. Perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a single chap thing - but I do have some thoughts of a pre slash short thing developing their friendship and then a post slash longer thing (potentially a little traumatic, but definitely ending in happiness). Are there legs there?


End file.
